4 The Note

That night, Mark walked towards Lana as he snatched a dose of drink served to a different individual by the bartender. He approached the man standing beside her after he had searched and seen her, his voice laced with a hint of intrigue. "I believe you're in my seat," he stated a sly smile on his lips. He slipped a wad of dollar notes into his hand, the crisp bills catching the man's attention. "Do us both a favor and move, would you?" He commanded. To Mark, money could solve anything, including delays, and it could also be your means to make up for mistakes. That was why he worked so hard to make more money. The man glanced at the money, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "Well, ain't you generous, Richie," he chuckled, obliging Mark's request and leaving the seat. Unfazed by the commotion, Lana continued sipping her drink, her eyes fixed ahead. He took the opportunity to slide into the vacant seat, the atmosphere between them crackling with a newfound tension. Lana was annoyed. No, she was really angry with him. Just staring at him angered her. She didn't know why he invited her to a party and came a few hours later, making her wait for so long. She couldn't hide the annoyance. Leaning closer, he caught her gaze and allowed a playful smirk to grace his lips. "Mind if I keep you company?" He asked, his voice low and filled with a magnetic charm. Her eyes met his, a glimmer of amusement dancing within them. She raised an eyebrow as if challenging him before finally responding. "Depends. Can you handle what you're getting yourself into?" she retorted, her voice hinting at seduction and annoyance. A smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth as he leaned back, meeting her challenge head-on. "I guess we'll find out," Mark replied, his words laced with anticipation and a touch of confidence. He couldn't really tell if she was angry or being her usual flirty self. But he knew she deserved to be angry. He wasn't hoping for coming so late; he planned on a few hours. "Meet me at my place exactly two hours from now. Alone." He whispered, tossing a card to her. She picked it up and read it; it was his house address. Charming ladies to stay longer after inviting her to his place was outside his tradition. When she turned around to make a phone call, he knew that was his chance to disappear into the crowd and out of the club. Without looking back, he walked away the same way he had come in, mixing himself into the crowd and finding his way out of the club. The thumping bass of the music gradually faded into the distance, and he could only hear the sound of a few people chatting and making out in the cold night. All that stopped with a flick of the ignition switch, his bike's engine roared to life. It's throaty growl cutting through the night. He could have gotten into a vehicle, but he was in the mood to drive freely; he needed to go on full speed. By the time Lana had informed the driver that had picked her up to meet her outside the club, Mark had been long gone. No one could tell where he left or when. "Such a jerk, you left me waiting so long, and now you're gone? I'll kill you." She fumed. Lana stepped out of the building, the cold night embracing her immediately. A shiver ran down her spine. The slip of paper with the address clutched tightly in her hand, a connection to Mark. She didn't know why he had given her a different address. After a few minutes of receiving her call, the driver finally arrived at the bar, and Lana stepped into the Rolls Royce without getting a hand from the driver. She handed him over the slip. "Find the address. That's my destination. I'm to be there in less than an hour." "Yes, ma'am." He tilted the steering to make a turn across the street. "That is somewhere Master Mark likes to be when he needs some air." He whispered; it was hard for Lana to catch his words. One hour later, she stood before the address he had given her—a grand building that exudes sophistication. Uncertainty mingled with excitement within me, but the pull of the unknown was stronger. The building was in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by tall trees. It was too dark to know what kind of building it was with the street lamps off. She opened the gates to the house, which seemed to be covered in stems and weeds. "Hello?" Lana turned on her phone's torch, begging to know where she was in the middle of the night. How could he send a lady to such a ghost town? Soon, she found the door to the entrance, which was surprisingly open. It revealed a warm atmosphere. Torches of lights placed on handles fixed to the wall were all over the place, and a grand staircase was a few meters away from me. There he was; Mark, at the end of the stairs, was patiently waiting for her. "You're quite early… welcome." He said as he walked down the stairs confidently. "That's strange… since I had to find my way in nowhere. Don't you think?" The warm glow of the torchlight danced on his face as he descended the grand staircase, his confident stride matching the mysterious allure surrounding him. He stopped a few steps away from her, his eyes gleaming with a subtle hint of amusement. "Ah, but that's the essence of the journey, isn't it?" he replied, his voice carrying a velvety tone that sent a shiver down my spine. "Sometimes, we must venture into the unknown to uncover the most extraordinary experiences." His words hung in the air, drawing her further into the depths of his mystery. She couldn't deny that his presence had an intoxicating effect, but a part of her remained guarded, questioning his intentions. Lana crossed her arms, attempting to maintain a semblance of composure. "Well, you certainly have a flair for the dramatic," she retorted, her voice laced with a mix of skepticism and intrigue. "But forgive me if I still find it rather peculiar that I had to stumble upon this place blindly. How did you even find it in the first place?" He smiled knowingly, his gaze fixed unwaveringly upon her. "Ah, my dear, some secrets are best left to the imagination," he replied cryptically. Let's just say that fate has a way of leading us to the right place at the right time." His response only fueled her curiosity, a desire to know his intentions. She hesitated momentarily as he extended a hand towards her before finally accepting. Lana placed her hand in his, the warmth of his touch sending a jolt of electricity through her. With a gentle squeeze, he conveyed a sense of reassurance as if to say, "Trust me." The light torches flickered as they ascended the grand staircase, casting elongated shadows along the walls.